


Pebble in Your Shoe

by actionpackedlips



Series: Hiking Boyfriends [2]
Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Getting Together, Hiking, I think that's really it folks, M/M, cuties being cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:54:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26935429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actionpackedlips/pseuds/actionpackedlips
Summary: Sequel to Chasing Waterfalls.Based off this prompt on Isn't It Bromantic? server:7 years ago I worked at a small company of about 15 people. I sent an email to all my co-workers one Friday, inviting them on a weekend hike. Only one person came, a guy from the web dev team that I'd hardly spoken to.Today is our 6th wedding anniversary. We're going hiking.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Series: Hiking Boyfriends [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1965409
Comments: 16
Kudos: 263
Collections: Isn't it Bromantic?





	Pebble in Your Shoe

Peter's foot slipped, loose gravel giving way under his hiking boot, and he pitched sideways, thrown off balance.

Before he could react, however, two strong, large, scarred hands came to steady him around his waist. 

“Oof—I got ya. There ya go, Petey,” Wade’s warm voice reassured from behind as he helped Peter to steady himself. 

In thanks Peter grew hot all over, stuttering out something unintelligible in his flusterment. 

They were hiking a particular steep trail today, back at Halloway, of course.

It’d been nearly a month since that first hike, when he’d met Wade. Since then they’d exchanged numbers, texted on a daily basis, and gone hiking nearly every weekend.

Wade even came into the office more often, if only to treat Peter to lunch in encouragement that he actually _take it._

It was going great, Peter was having a fun time. He enjoyed their daily back and forth text messages, and looked forward to each weekend spent with Wade. He was starting to suspect there might be more to Wade’s innocent flirtations than he’d first thought, or maybe that was Peter being hopeful. Peter wasn’t quite sure, yet.

They’d only spent time together at work or when hiking, never beyond that.

Peter had been trying to add to that repeating routine, but he was completely horrible at making the first move, notorious for clamming up around anyone he liked. Although Wade made it easier with his affable personality and innate ability to make Peter feel so completely at ease, especially when it was just the two of them. It was part of the reason for Peter’s nervous hesitance; did Peter really want to risk this friendship that Wade so clearly needed and Peter adored?

But when he looked at Wade he knew that he wanted more. Not just in the physical aspect; although, Peter blushed as Wade’s hand squeezed his shoulder as he passed, he certainly wanted that too. No, more in a deeper way, something friendship could only skim.

So, today was the day. Since the ride over together Peter had been working up the courage to ask Wade back to his place for pizza and a movie. He had to drop Peter off, considering he’d picked him up there. It only made sense to invite him in, if only to extend the lovely day they were having. 

So far Peter hadn’t managed to do anything but nearly fall a couple times and stutter out some rambling conversation he’d forget as soon as it left his mouth, his mind distracted and anxious.

After what felt like the longest hike of his life, they finally crested the trail to an outlook they hadn’t visited together yet. Wade looked over at him and at the shifty slide of Peter’s eyes away from his own he made a questioning noise.

“You okay?” Wade asked, voice genuine. He always seemed to care far more in regards to Peter than himself. 

Two weeks ago Wade had tripped over a root and went down wrong on his ankle. Peter had ordered him to lean on him for support as they made their way back to the car, despite not being much of a help at all considering Wade’s bulk and height. Wade spent the whole time waving away Peter’s concern, yet if Peter so much as shifted the wrong way, or tripped over a _stone_ , Wade was there to steady him. 

He wondered how Wade remained so passive to the horrible treatment he received at work, then remembered how Wade had said he hardly went in when others were there. Peter realized it probably affected him more than he let on, and Peter felt a rush of affection for the man who, despite the degrading gossip, still managed to come in a couple days a week to eat lunch with him. 

“Yes,” Peter squeaked, embarrassed Wade had noticed his strange behavior.

Wade, of course, saw through the lie.

They walked through the thinning trees until the forest floor bled into the rockier part of the mountain.

Wade paused before he joked in a forced voice, “You’re not breaking up with me are you?”

Peter was taken aback. That was the farthest thing from the truth. 

“What—No!”

“Because I wouldn’t blame you,” Wade hung his head as they continued to the edge of the look out, kicking at a pebble. “I’ve heard them talking about you at work because we hang out. I wouldn’t want you being friends with me to be the reason your job becomes unbearable. I know how much you love it.”

“I do love it, but that’s not—Wow…” Peter’s mind went blank and all his thoughts left him as he looked out at the breaktaking view before him. 

This was the first time they’d been on the opposite side of the mountain, the farthest they’d hiked yet, and it was _gorgeous._

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Wade asked, voice sounding strangely breathy. 

Peter wanted to see Wade in that moment; had the urge to look over and see his handsome face alight in awe at the gorgeous view sprawling out for miles before them. So, feeling confident in his ability to sneak a peek, he turned his head.

Brown eyes met shockingly clear blue. 

Apparently Wade hadn’t been looking at the view at all. Or at least not the _same_ view.

Peter felt his face flush, and his palms start to sweat. This was the moment, he told himself, ask him _now_ , Parker.

“I don’t want to stop hanging out,” Peter rushed out. “The opposite, actually... I—I was wondering if you wanted to come back to my place after for some pizza and uh, maybe watch a movie? I mean the movie’s optional, of course. So is the pizza! But, um, I really do owe you for all those lunches. So if you’d like some pizza—shoot, do you even like pizza? It could easily be something else, it doesn’t have to be pizza! You can choose whatever you want, honestly, I—”

Wade's deep, throaty laugh started up, cutting him off, and Peter shrank back, feeling foolish.

“No, no. I’m not laughing at you, Petey, sorry,” Wade reassured, taking a step closer to Peter and sobering up from his amusement. “But like, _really,_ who doesn’t like pizza?”

“Well,” Peter pondered unthinkingly, his eyes honing in on a soaring hawk in the sky, “my ex-boyfriend was lactose intolerant, but also oddly into keto? So, I try not to assume anymore, you know?” 

Wade made a tiny noise at that, and Peter looked over only to see Wade glance away, cheeks a tad pinker than they’d been a moment ago.

“Totally fine with cheese,” Wade exclaimed, eyes glued straight, not looking at Peter like they’d been a moment ago. “Love it, actually! Extra’s usually my preference, the more cheese the better!”

Peter smiled, chuckling slightly at Wade’s odd exuberance, and the anxious knot he’d felt in his stomach all day loosened.

Until a few moments later when that same anxiety filled him, only this time for a different reason. His heart skipped a beat as he realized he’d invited Wade over _to his apartment_.

Oh, god.

* * *

The flickering of the movie's menu must have woken Peter. 

He came to slowly, groggily, as if he’d been in a deep, sated sleep.

There was something soft and warm, yet oddly solid, under Peter’s cheek. He pushed up gently, looking around and rubbing sleep from his eyes. He turned to look at what his makeshift pillow had been and a strong T-shirt covered pec came into focus. Peter blushed as it all came rushing back to him.

They’d picked up food along the way after hiking back down to the car, two large, extra cheese, half pepperoni pizzas, and settled in for a movie on Peter’s couch. He’d thought he’d been a respectable, un-snuggable distance away, and wondered how he’d ended up burrowing himself deep into Wade’s chest. He knew they’d both been tried, trading yawns well before halfway into the movie, thanks to the lengthy hike they’d taken. But, still, that didn’t give him reason to stealthily sleep snuggle the guy. 

Peter wiped at his mouth self-consciously, hoping he hadn’t just drool all over the man he liked, but thankfully it came back dry. How embarrassing would _that_ have been.

The TV was providing enough light to see Wade’s arm was thrown back over the length of the couch, the blanket that had been underneath it had been tugged down haphazardly over Peter from the spot it usually laid. Peter ducked his head, a tug of warmth filling his heart at Wade’s thoughtfulness. The steady rise and fall of Wade’s chest and his relaxed, closed eyes indicated Peter hadn’t woken him up in the process of his waking.

So Peter, ever the opportunist, used the moment to look his fill.

Peter wasn’t afraid to meet Wade’s eyes, he loved looking at Wade. Peter had never seen someone with such vibrant blue eyes, and had found himself lost in them more than once. And although he truly wasn’t bothered by the scars, they still intrigued him, but his Aunt May had raised him right. He didn’t let his gaze linger longer than necessary, and definitely didn’t stare at some of the more vicious scars patchworked across his skin.

But Peter was naturally curious. He had no idea where they came from, or what they’d feel like. Some looked shallower and older than others, while some were much deeper and angrier looking. Wade’s bald head was resting tipped back along the couch, his lips parted in sleep. His scarring looked less painful somehow in this moment, perhaps not pulled as tight in the relaxed state of sleep, and Peter wanted to know if they ever bothered him as much as they looked like they did.

He reached a hand up to run a ghost touch along a particular deep, slightly curved one positioned along the top of a defined cheekbone. When he let his fingers finally settle on the pocked skin, feather-light, it felt like most scars normally did; soft and slippery with age, slightly raised. Peter wondered what had happened to make Wade covered completely in them. He hadn’t found the courage to broach the subject, and a voice that sounded suspiciously like Aunt May reminded him it was rude of him to ask.

He moved down, taking caution to continue his light handed touch, to trace at Wade’s full, curved bottom lip. Peter wondered, not for the first time, what it would feel like to be kissed by this man.

Not just because of the scars, although he _was_ curious, but because Peter would bet anything those lips would meet his passionately, playfully, wonderfully; a perfection reflection of everything Wade embodied.

Eyelashless eyelids suddenly fluttered open, and Peter cursed his inability to be covert as he snatched his hand back. He wasn’t fast enough, and Wade’s eyes honed in on its movement. Peter froze, caught, and their gaze met, the glow of the tv reflected on their faces.

From his mouth spilled a question he’d kept in for weeks now, but wanted to ask since the beginning. 

“Why are the people at work so awful to you?”

It just didn’t make sense. If anyone had gotten to know Wade like he had, they’d see him for his worth. He was a great friend, funny and caring, loyal and loving. He often wondered what he’d done most weekends _before_ being introduced to this energy-filled man, because honestly, it had only been a few weeks and already Peter couldn’t imagine not having Wade in his life.

Perhaps his feelings had transcended past friendly on their own accord.

That was besides the point, however. 

It seemed like everyone at work had a complete vendetta against Wade, not one of them comfortable in his presence. It just didn’t make sense. Wade was huge, there was no denying that, but his wacky personality and kind demeanor made you quick to forget his massive size; Peter could never look at Wade and think he was scary.

Wade cleared his throat deeply from sleep and settled the arm that had been laid out behind him on the couch to curl around his waist. 

“That ok?” Wade asked in a soft tentative voice. One that sounded almost, well, _shy_.

It was more than okay, Peter wanted to say. 

“Yes,” was all he managed to breathe out. 

Wade let out a soft, pleased sigh through his nose.

“I got diagnosed with cancer nearly eight years ago,” Wade started off with, and instantly Peter made a distressed noise. 

Wade smiled at his concern. “I’m in remission now, completely cancer free. I’m okay.” The arm around Peter’s waist tightened briefly before relaxing.

“But when I got my cancer diagnosis, it wasn’t pretty. I had it pretty much everywhere, and my girlfriend at the time,” Wade paused. “Fiance, actually. Well, she, uh, was determined to see it through and wanted to stay by my side through it all. But I knew what was going to happen, what I was going to turn into for her. A burden… and I didn’t want that.”

Wade tilted his head back, sucking in a breath. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologized roughly, blinking watery eyes up at the ceiling. “ _Shit_. Just haven’t talked about this in awhile.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Peter whispered softly, letting one of his hands come up to rest along Wade’s chest, fingers petting soothingly. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“I know,” Wade told him. “But I want to, and it'll eventually get around to answering your question,” he joked lightly.

Once composed, Wade continued on.

“I’d been in special forces before I met Vanessa. It wasn’t everything I thought it would be, and eventually I left, but not before I’d heard whispers of experimental medicine being performed on wanna-be recruits.”

Wade shook his head. “To this day I still don’t know what I was thinking reaching out to that pedophile looking motherfucker, whether it was my own desperation or the cancer addling my brains, I’ll never know.” Wade shrugged. “But in the end it cured my cancer, so I guess I got what I wanted.”

The next part made Wade shifty, and his gaze wouldn’t meet Peter’s, but his thumb traced a tender back and forth swipe along Peter's hipbone. “The treatment I got… It… did something. To me. The stuff they gave to me, injected me with, it caused a reaction, and while it managed to cure me of my cancer, it also made me look like this.”

Peter wanted to tell Wade vehemently in that moment that his outside didn’t matter, it was the _inside_ that counted, but Wade soldiered on with his story, and Peter didn’t want to interrupt.

“It wasn’t all physical, unfortunately. What they did to me, the excruciating pain I endured, it ended up screwing me up psychologically for a long time afterward. Permanently, in some ways.”

His gaze met Peter’s at that admission before flickering away again.

“When I came back, cured but undeniably broken, I wasn’t anything remotely resembling the man Vanessa had loved. Not just physically, but emotionally. Where I used to be affectionate and loving, I was nasty and hateful, and I took a lot of my resentment out on her. I wasn’t a good person to her, Peter, that’s the important part.”

Wade sighed deeply and Peter’s hand, where it still rested on his chest, lifted with the movement.

“She left me, and I don’t blame her one bit. _I_ didn’t even see anything I remembered left in myself during those times. Not inwardly, and certainly not outwardly. It took losing _everything_ , losing _her_ , for me to decide to change, and it took years to get to a point where I don’t hate myself every day for it. But during that time I started working towards getting a degree. My therapist said it would help me to focus on something other than my own progress, and they were right. I loved it, and I did fantastic at it, so when I got the job I have now, I felt like, for the first time in a long time, that I’d done something _good_. Like something the old me would have done.”

Peter, hearing the pain in Wade’s voice at reliving his past, felt guilty for asking. He should have known that something like that couldn’t be a simple cut and dry answer. If there was one thing Peter would have wished for in that moment it was a time machine. He suspected there was even more pain and suffering in Wade’s history than even this one story accounted for, and it broke his heart. 

“I stepped into that office on the first day and, despite the stares I knew I would get, felt proud of myself and how far I had come.”

Wade snorted self-deprecatingly and the thumb tracing patterns on his skin stopped. 

“But here’s the thing, Petey, sometimes the past doesn’t always stay in the past. Sometimes it decides to carry itself with us whether we choose to move on from it or not, popping up to haunt us when we least expect it, and that’s exactly what happened. One of Vanessa’s friends was a secretary there when I started. Which naturally meant that by the second day everyone I worked with had heard about my past, or at least her inflated account of it.”

Finally Wade turned to stare right into Peter’s eyes. “The thing is… I couldn’t even get mad at them for it because I _was_ the monster they made me out to be. Some details might have been wrong, or over exaggerated, but overall what they were whispering about me was right.”

Peter had to interject at the point, rudeness be damned, because he had something to say and it was _important._

“What you went through was horrible. Beyond horrible, unimaginable, even, and maybe your emotions and actions while processing weren’t admirable, but you were _healing,_ ” he told Wade sincerely, sternly. “That gives them _no right_ to treat you like that, Wade. People don’t get to use your lowest rock bottom moments in life for their own petty amusements and judgements. The person I see now is bright and happy and so fun to be around. Wade, they don’t _know_ you. They weren’t right then, and they aren’t right now.”

Peter loosened the fabric of Wade’s shirt that he’d accidentally started bunching in his hand during his passionate speech. As he’d gotten increasingly worked up, anger had risen a healthy flush to his skin and he felt warm with it. 

“God,” Wage groaned, and his hand slipped a little lower, flirting with the curve of Peter’s ass. “You’re making this _really_ hard, baby boy.”

Peter, thrown from his emotional tirade, echoed the new nickname. “Baby boy?”

Like a deer in headlights Wade looked caught, not knowing which way to go but ultimately deciding on the truth. “It’s what I call you in my head,” he admitted sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I know I shoudn’t—” 

In that split second Peter made a decision.

He lifted and turned, seating himself fully and comfortably across Wade’s large thighs, one leg on either side. 

“No,” Peter interrupted, seated in Wade’s lap, sounding more confident than he felt as his face burned. “I like it.”

Wade’s hands cupped Peter’s hips and they settled there like they’d been crafted to fit.

“I like _you_ ,” came Wade’s raspy voice, clearly affected by this new position. Peter swayed forward, drawn to the throaty sound, and his lips hovered dangerously close to scarred ones. 

“Yeah?” Peter whispered, the word ghosting across Wade’s mouth.

Wade groaned again before bringing a hand to Peter’s throat, knuckles just grazing the skin, before delicately framing under Peter’s jaw. They had a second of eye contact that zapped through them both before Wade tugged him closer and—

It was a thousand suns in the center of his chest burning into existence; it was a warp speed jump making his stomach summersalt; it was fire licking at his veins, no, wait, that was Wade’s _tongue_ licking into his mouth and Peter sighed into it, letting his hands run up to finally familiarize themselves with the highway of scars criss crossing over the skin of Wade’s skull.

When they finally pulled back Peter’s lips felt tingly and abused in the best way, his eyes shut in pleasure. He fluttered them open, attempting to focus after being closed for so long, only to be met with a shit eating grin spread across the intoxicating lips of one Wade Wilson.

“You want to be my hiking buddy?” Wade asked flitariously, giddily, _happily._

Peter shook his head, already leaning back in. “I want to be your hiking _boyfriend.”_


End file.
